


i find shelter (in this way)

by rippedgloves



Series: There's nothing but a play thing [4]
Category: One Direction (Band), Radio 1 RPF
Genre: BDSM, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Light BDSM, M/M, Polyamory, Subspace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-04
Updated: 2013-03-04
Packaged: 2017-12-04 06:48:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/707779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rippedgloves/pseuds/rippedgloves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I bet you were amazing today,” Louis says softly, and he feels Nick tense even with Harry laying between them, “you were so good, baby, such a good boy for Nick.”</p><p>Harry hums, turning slightly towards Louis and tucking himself against his side, whispering “Are you proud of me?”</p><p>“Very. And so is Nick. Sleep now, curly, you deserve it.”</p><p>As on command, Harry’s breath evens and slows down and he develops a soft rhythm. Louis doesn’t miss the surprised look that Nick casts him, but he’s too exhausted to explain it to him; not right now.</p><p>“You don’t have to be like that, you know?” Louis says eventually, when Harry’s fully asleep and has started snoring softly, “You don’t need to be rough or like—it’s not necessary for you to take control, if that’s not your thing, naturally. He’ll like it too.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	i find shelter (in this way)

**Author's Note:**

> this part is shorter than the rest, but the next part should be longer? :) hope you like where this is heading, though things are about to take quite a different turn! thanks for reading ♥

( _maybe I had said, something that was wrong | can I make it better, with the lights turned on_ )

 

*

Louis is out the door in seconds; he grabs his coat and slides his TOMs half the way and kisses Eleanor’s forehead muttering a ‘sorry’ before running out. He drives recklessly, making an illegal U turn and going a lot over the speed limit for most of the way, but he manages to make it home in less than ten minutes.

He knows what happened, can almost picture it in his head, and he wants to punch Nick for being so daft, wants to punch Harry for not talking about his needs, but most of all he wants to punch himself for not seeing it coming, for not warning Nick, for not thinking about it enough and realizing it could happen.

He wouldn’t be this concerned if it hadn’t been for Nick’s tone, for how he sounded desperate and apprehensive and how he’d basically begged Louis for a solution.

(“ _I don’t know what to do, he won’t even look at me, and he won’t stop crying_.”)

It’s not something that’s happened before, not to them, but Louis has read about it enough to know that Harry is more than likely to enter a bad state without the appropriate aftercare. He doesn’t even know why he didn’t tell Nick about it, or why Harry didn’t, since he’s very aware of the appropriate way to go about things like this.

They’ve had this talk a million times, and Louis thought it had gotten better, but apparently Harry is still terrible at asking for things and taking care of his own needs—and it’s stupid, that he can’t look after himself, because Harry is _so_ good at taking care of others. They probably need to work on this more.

He runs to the bedroom as soon as he makes it inside the apartment, throwing his coat on the floor and not even bothering to take his shoes off (and maybe Harry will scowl at him for this in the morning, but he can’t be arsed to care at the moment.)

“Harry?” he calls as he makes his way to the side of the bed, where Harry’s curled into himself, “Haz, baby, it’s ok, I’m here, you’re ok. Everything’s ok.”

Harry opens his eyes to look at him, which is a good thing, but when he does they are unfocussed and glossy and make him seem lost, like he’s not quite there in the room with him. Nick is sat on the bed, close to Harry but not touching him, and the look of concern on his face makes Louis’ own heart ache.

He slides a hand deep in Harry’s curls and starts softly, soothingly grazing his fingernails against Harry’s scalp; he brings his lips to Harry’s forehead to place a kiss there before pulling away and carefully pushing Harry aside so he can get on the bed with him. Louis puts his arms around Harry and pulls him close so that his bare back is resting against Louis’ own clothed one; he continues to scratch Harry’s head until the younger boy’s sniffles start quieting down and he begins to push back against his hand.

“You’re okay baby, everything’s okay, we’re here, and we love you,” he whispers, looking pointedly at Nick so that he does something, “we’re going to take care of you now, okay?”

Harry mumbles something unintelligible and leans back against Louis. He’s still shaking, and his skin is sticky with cold sweat and dry cum, which Louis guesses must be making him more uncomfortable.

“Go to the bathroom and fetch a wet rug, will you?” he asks Nick, his voice soft not to disturb Harry, and then even softer when Nick passes by his side to leave the room, “and when you get back, get into bed and hug him properly.”

Louis wants to talk to Harry, wants to ask where things went wrong and wants to know if the damage is reparable or if maybe they need to reconsider the things they do together; he wants to talk to Harry about Nick, tell him off for not being selfish enough and taking enough care of himself, and most of all he just wants to kiss him until he’s okay again, but Harry is not ready and Louis can’t push him. Instead, he uses the time where Nick’s absent to kiss Harry’s neck and caress his chest and just stays there until their breathing evens and their chests start moving together.

Once Nick is back he removes the duvet off Harry and takes the rag from Nick’s hand, softly rubbing it against’ Harry’s skin to clean him off.

“Maybe I should go?” Nick offers, already starting to move off the bed.

“No, here, now you do it,” Louis says, handing him the piece of wet cloth, “he needs you.”

“Looks like you’ve got it under control though—“

“But he needs _you_. He needs you to take care of him.”

They lock eyes, and Louis hopes his aren’t too harsh because he’s not trying to scare Nick off here, but at the same time he wants to punch his face for getting Harry into this state ( _it’s not his fault!_ ) Nick nods once and starts delicately wiping off Harry’s stomach and thighs, one arm around Harry’s waist and the other put to work.

“Are you feeling okay, Hazza?” Louis asks when Nick has finished, and there’s no response, but Harry nods once and then buries himself in the pillows, closing his eyes.

“I bet you were amazing today,” Louis says softly, and he feels Nick tense even with Harry laying between them, “you were so good, baby, such a good boy for Nick.”

Harry hums, turning slightly towards Louis and tucking himself against his side, whispering “Are you proud of me?”

“Very. And so is Nick. Sleep now, curly, you deserve it.”

As on command, Harry’s breath evens and slows down and he develops a soft rhythm. Louis doesn’t miss the surprised look that Nick casts him, but he’s too exhausted to explain it to him; not right now.

“You don’t have to be like that, you know?” Louis says eventually, when Harry’s fully asleep and has started snoring softly, “You don’t need to be rough or like—it’s not necessary for you to take control, if that’s not your thing, naturally. He’ll like it too.”

“I thought it was his thing.”

“It is, sometimes. Some days he needs to surrender himself, some days he wants to be punished. Other times he just needs to be taken care of. And you don’t have to do something just because he does it with me—we’re not competing here.”

“I guess this is why everyone’s so in love with you, isn’t it?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t give me that, like you don’t know. The way your four band mates hold you up on a pedestal and look at you like the sun shines out of your arse.”

“Well maybe it does and you just haven’t noticed yet.”

Nick chuckles, and Louis feels him relax against the headboard.

“You’re really good with him, you know?”

“Well it’s been well over a year since we, you know, started; you learn to read him with time.”

Nick smiles at him, and Louis finds himself smiling back, and it’s easy. There’s no spite in Nick’s words, no bitterness in the way he’s looking at Louis, so Louis thinks maybe they can do this, maybe Nick isn’t just something fleeting in Harry’s life; maybe Nick is here to stay, and it’s terrifying to think of someone else being as important to Harry as he is, and his protective side is screaming at him to jump between them and stop it before Harry gets hurt, but there is nothing but fondness in the way Nick is looking at Harry, one hand drawing lazy circles on his chest, and Louis can’t bring himself to worry.

“You know, you’re not that bad, Tomlinson.”

Louis shows him two fingers, but his smile doesn’t falter, and Nick nods, like he gets it. That’s the thing, Louis thinks, that Nick gets this, gets _them_ in a way that no one else –not even Eleanor—has before. He hasn’t seen Harry this loose, this comfortable with someone that isn’t him –or the band, but that’s a completely different thing—and even with the bad parts, with the incident tonight and the bad press and the gossip, this has to be a good thing and Louis is determined to make it work, if only because it makes Harry happy.

It’s hard not to fall asleep, with Harry warm and cozy next to him, and it should feel weird, he guesses, to share the bed – _and the boy_ —with Nick Grimshaw, of all people, who he spent months resenting and being jealous of, but it doesn’t, and that’s the first sign Louis takes that things are going to work for them.


End file.
